


The Gatekeeper.

by Iiteru



Series: 7 Deadly Sins. [1]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: 7 Deadly Sins, Ateez represent the 7 "heavenly" virtues as well, I made this on a whim, Jongho astral projects every night, M/M, No Beta, Prologue, So the sin chapters may not make sense unless you read this, Taemin being the gatekeeper is based off of Want, Taemin is the gatekeeper of hell, This is how he ends up doing what he does, This sets up the series, Will edit later, also, and he meets a different sin, but I'm pretty excited for it ngl, every "sin" is represented by a different Ateez member, probably will cancel it if nobody is interested
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 04:54:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17891870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iiteru/pseuds/Iiteru
Summary: “The seven deadly sins…” The name slips past his lips before he even realizes it. Taemin grins, proud in a way that can only be described as malicious. It’s a scary expression, and the darkness in his eyes makes Jongho’s mouth go dry.“Yes, the sins; Greed, wrath, envy, lust, gluttony, pride, and sloth. They’re all children of evil, and they live,” he points to the door, “behind these gates. I think it's time you meet them.”( in which Jongho undergoes a series of tests from both demons and angels to determine where his soul will end up when he dies. )





	The Gatekeeper.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry if this is really bad ! It was kind of rushed uh... not my best work, I'll probably edit it in the morning ! Anyways, yay  
> ***DISCLAIMER*** This story has references to religion. The interpretations of the sins and virtues in this series are by no means a reflection of any religion in particular and are completely objective.

Jongho sits up with a jolt, inhaling desperately.

His lungs feel empty, squeezed of any oxygen, and he gulps down air in hasty heaves of his chest. He’s completely alert, adrenaline pumping through his veins, and his eyes flicker around him at his surroundings.

White walls surround him on every side. It’s almost like he’s in a room, but not quite. The white extends out far, curves, and it’s impossible to tell where the walls begin or end. Or if that’s even what they are.

As he looks down at himself, he realizes that he’s no longer dressed in the pajamas he had fallen asleep in. Instead, he’s wearing the outfit from the previous day. A thick leather jacket hangs over his shoulders and there’s white t-shirt clinging to his chest, moving with it as he regains control of his breathing. 

He takes his hand and pinches himself. It’s usually the way he wakes himself up from dreams when they get too real or complicated for his taste, but to no avail. A whine of anguish slips past his lips as he comes to the terrifying conclusion that there’s no way he’s going to wake himself up this time. 

It’s not uncommon for him to astral project into dreams. He does it often, much more frequently than he knows is normal or healthy. Jongho’s gotten better at controlling them when they come, but every now and then, he’s thrown into a situation like this one where he can’t rather the reigns. 

His gaze drifts to his hands. He bends each finger at will, finding that he at least has control over his body in the state. He sighs in relief, shoulders deflating as it flushes over him. Regardless of where he is, at least he can make his own decisions. 

It’s then that he catches a blur of black from his peripheral, his eyes snapping up. 

There, floating through the air beside him, are specks of black dust. They almost looks like glitter, swirling, sparkling. They seem to grow from nowhere as they drift through the atmosphere, doubling, tripling, and continuing to multiply in a way that shouldn’t be possible.

Then, right before his eyes, he watches as the dust clumps together, molding into something so incredibly human. The dark particles twist and writhe together until there’s a figure standing in front of him, composed completely of specks of glinting, ebony dust. 

Jongho watches, stunned in place, as a dark limb, an arm, reaches out towards him. He wants to move, but he’s absolutely frozen in shock. His eyes follow its movements, wide and smitten. Then, just before dark fingers brush against the lapel of his jacket, it pulls back. 

“Choi Jongho,” it speaks, and Jongho stares up at it in horrified fascination. There’s malevolence in the tone. It’s deep, dangerous, and it almost feels like he’s stepped into a world he doesn’t belong in. “I’ve been expecting you.”

“You… You have?” Jongho sputters. The figure nods, slow and drawn out. Jongho doesn’t miss the way that dust dissipates in little trails from the sides of its head as it does.

“It’s been a long time… I can’t remember the last time we saw one another.”

Jongho wants to argue that he can’t either because they never HAVE met, but it doesn’t seem like it will help his case. The figure seems to look at him for a moment, but it’s hard to tell because the creature doesn’t seem to have any eyes. It’s completely androgynous, black face deprived of any features, actually.

“Who are you…?” He finds himself asking. His voice is smaller than he would like it to be, but it’s inevitable. The creature seems to be amused by the question, humming as it places its hands on undefined hips.

“I forgot to introduce myself, hm?” Then, before Jongho could even think to reply, it’s changing.

The black dust that held the creature together melts away slowly. It disappears into nothing, flecks of darkness lightening and solidifying into golden melanin as a Korean man starts to take place. The black licks away from his face last, revealing plush lips and light, silky hair that dusts just above his eyes.

His face looks familiar, but from where exactly is hard to place. Jongho swears he’s seen him before, _“I can’t remember the last time we saw one another…”_ , perhaps in another dream, and the thought is perplexing. 

His frame is lithe, clad in black that clings to the thickness of thighs and the thin, delicate curves of his arms. The man squats down in front of Jongho, head tipping, smile turning up the corners of beautiful lips. 

“Lee Taemin,” He introduces, a hand outstretching. “Welcome.”

Jongho eyes it for a moment before giving it a hesitant shake. In one swift move, Taemin pulls him to his feet, much stronger than he looks. 

“Where… where, exactly, am I?” Jongho asks. He dusts himself off, more of a formality than anything else.

“You mortals and your questions,” Taemin drawls with a sigh, hands finding his hips. “You’re here because you have something important to do, Jongho.”

The man in front of him turning away from him and towards something that wasn’t there before.

There’s a huge door in the middle of the white now. It seems to lead nowhere, solid black, carved with intricate designs that Jongho can’t make out from how far away he is from it. It’s the size of one of the skyscrapers in the city, the building outside of Jongho’s bedroom in the real world, and he blinks up at it in awe.

“Something important…?” He echoes. It’s then that he notices that Taemin’s voice is much different now. Soft, unassuming. It’s a scary contrast to the abrasive tone he had when he was composed of dust.

“Yes, very important. Come, follow me.”

Jongho had always been told when he was younger never to follow strangers, but he figures those rules don’t apply to dream world. Or to… well, whatever the hell Taemin is. He follows Taemin over to the door, eyeing it cautiously when they stop beside it.

“The door,” He prompts, brown eyes scanning over the intricacies of it. It’s breathtaking up close, millions of tiny details tapped into the surface meticulously. “I created this? With my mind?”

Taemin laughs, amused, following his gaze. “No, you didn’t create the door.” 

“Then… what is it?” 

“I’m getting there, be patient.” Taemin huffs softly, brows tugging together and lips pushing into a pout. “Seriously, didn’t your parents ever teach you how to act in the presence of Gatekeepers?” 

“Gatekeepers?” Jongho repeats, eyes widening. “Like… To Hell?” 

“Why do you ask questions you already know the answers to?” The man mumbles under his breath. “Yes, to Hell.”

Jongho knew about Gatekeepers. He had read about them all of his life. They were guardians of sorts that protected the gates of Hell. In mythology, at least. Different civilizations in history had different interpretations of them, but they always had to do with one thing: death.

“But I’m…” Jongho licks his lips, brow furrowing in confusion. “I’m alive still? I’m asleep?”

“You’re dreaming, yes,” Taemin nods. “But you’re open in this state. In the astral plane, we can reach you. Which, if you would stay quiet, I would love to explain to you.”

“Sorry,” Jongho whispers, biting his tongue. He’s never been one to believe in the existence of demons. Sure, he enjoyed reading the stories, but they were nothing more than fables to him. But, if it was true, if Taemin really was what he says he is, he doesn’t want to take any chances.

“You’ve been chosen by our leader to undergo a series of tests. Some from us, some from…” Taemin cringes, spitting out the word, “ _angels_. Once a night, every day for two weeks.”

“Two weeks?” Jongho gapes. “You’re saying that I’m going to be visited by something every night for two whole weeks?”

“Uh, yeah. Didn’t you hear me?”

Jongho’s mouth is hanging open as Taemin looks at him. His mind is racing, a million thoughts going through him all at once. 

It’s a dream, he knows it’s a dream, but something about the entire situation feels too real to be a fragment of his imagination. It’s almost too thought through, too complex. He’s had strange visitations in his dreams and projections before, but never to this extent. This is a whole new level of weird for him. 

Even Taemin, the Gatekeeper, seems beyond just his mind’s capabilities. He looks like someone he’s seen before… Someone he knows he’s seen before. They’ve met, he’s sure of it. The longer he looks at him, the more certain he becomes of the fact.

Yet, the more he tries to think about it, the harder it gets to come to a conclusion. It’s almost as though they time he thinks he can place where they’ve met that it evades him on purpose.

“This week is mine,” Taemin continues, snapping him back to reality. “You’re going to meet my half of the equation; you’re going to meet the sins.”

The man outstretches a hand and waves it in front of the gates. The black dust flies off of his fingers, licking the air as it makes its way to the metal. It scatters, melting against the curves of designs and melding them into something new. 

There are seven of them in total, each much, much different than the last. There are markings Jongho can’t read, Latin, and various the shapes of figures. They’re embedded in the surface of the door, each surrounded with different details that distinguish them from one another. 

His eyes linger on the one on the far left, a faceless figure surrounded by eyes on every side. The figure almost looks like it’s crying, head in two tiny hands. Then his attention is caught by another, two figures embracing in a way that looks both sinister and intriguing at the same time. 

“The seven deadly sins…” The name slips his lips before he even realizes it. Taemin grins, proud in a way that can only be described as malicious. It’s a scary expression, and his eyes are dark in a way that makes Jongho’s mouth go dry.

“Yes, the sins; Greed, wrath, envy, lust, gluttony, pride, and sloth. They’re all children of evil, and they live,” he points to the door, “behind these gates.”

Jongho heard about the seven deadly sins growing up. Not necessarily in religious use of the terms, but from literature that he had been exposed to over the years. The sins were all abstract, adjectives used to describe and link together the most prominent flaws of humanity. Surely there were no…. personifications of them. Right?

“You said that I was being tried for something,” Jongho adds, hoping to distract himself from wondering too much about the imminent. “What is that exactly?”

“Well...You’re a rare case, to say the least.” Taemin explains. He crosses his arms over his chest and blows his light bangs off of his forehead. “The boss… isn’t sure what to do with you.”

“What to do with me…?”

“To say this in the simplest way possible,” Taemin turns towards him, an evil grin curling his lip. “You’re going to die soon. But, because you haven’t done anything extremely hellish or benevolent, you’re getting tested to see where you belong. Behind there,” he points to the door again, “or up in the sky with the feathered freaks.”

Jongho’s jaw drops. He’s sure he probably looks ridiculous, eyes wide, mouth hanging so far open he’s positive it’s close to hitting the floor. He’s… going to die? How soon? And the angels and demons are fighting over who will get his soul? 

“That’s impossible.” He blurts. Taemin laughs, rolling his eyes. 

“You humans are always so funny,” He muses, eyes glinting with something that somehow manages to be more terrifying than the threat of death itself. “Every time you hear the news that you’re dead or about to die, you lose your shit.”

“Well, yeah. Most people don’t want to die.” Jongho huffs. 

“Ah, but they tend to feel better once they do.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that. He doesn’t exactly have any frame of reference to compare to, so he decides against arguing. Jongho purses his lips, hands wringing together. They’re clammy, so he wipes them against his jeans. 

“So…Say that I fail this test. That I end up behind those doors.” He starts, watching as Taemin perks up, intrigued. “What will happen to me?”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Taemin wags a finger in front of his nose. “That’s not for me to say. You wouldn’t want me to spoil things now would you, hm?”

Jongho very much wants that, it’s why he asked in the first place, but the look on Taemin’s face shows he’s not going to be budging any time soon and he relents, muttering a hushed“no.”

“Good,” The Gatekeeper confirms. He steps back for a moment, then gestures grandly to the seven designs cast into the wall. “Pick your poison, Choi Jongho. Your first test is about to begin.”

As Jongho steps closer, he takes in the sight before him carefully. He doesn’t want to do it, he really doesn’t, but he doesn’t have any choice. His hand hovers in the air, poised to choose, and his eyes scan over each and every one of them with caution. 

He isn’t sure which represents which sin. They all seem to be metaphors or replications of stories associated with the sins themselves. Differentiating between any two sins is nearly impossible given his prior knowledge. He feels Taemin watching him, and because of that, he makes the rash decision to just choose the option directly in front of him.

“This one.” He declares. 

Taemin’s plush lips curl up into another smile, satisfied. “Good choice.”

The gatekeeper gestures with his own hand for Jongho to push forward into the pattern. With apprehension, he does, fingers pressing against the metal. It’s rough to the touch, swirls of the metal pressing up against the pads of his fingers like little needles. 

“Close your eyes,” Taemin instructs. Jongho does, eyes falling closed slowly. 

He squeezes them tightly once they’re shut, preparing for what’s about to happen. He isn’t sure what to expect, but he knows whatever it is can’t be good. He’s about to come face to face with a sin. 

One of the seven deadly sins. 

No matter what he did, what he thought of, there was no way that he could mentally or physically prepare himself for what was to come. The only positive was that he knew he was dreaming, that he would wake up if he could just tough it out. 

Then, without warning, his hand starts to tingle. His eyes burst open, only to be met with the sight of dust overtaking his features. It’s the same dust that Taemin himself had manifest from earlier, and he looks over at the spot that the Gatekeeper was standing in beside him on instinct. 

He’s not there. Instead, there’s a cloud of the same black dust, swirling through the air, sucking into the cracks in the door. 

There’s the rush of wind against his face, and Jongho squints to see that it’s coming from the design that he selected, a hole having opened. It’s sucking viciously the darkness within relentless as it draws him close.

He watches in horrified fascination as his very existence melts into black, sparkling dust, and allows himself to squeeze his eyes shut in the last few seconds before he’s sucked into the hole completely. 

In a moment, darkness overtakes everything. His head starts to spin as he’s met with the familiar feeling of falling, wind rushing around him. 

In the musk of the darkness, he feels himself start to solidify again. Then, in the midst of it all, a blinding white light overtakes everything around him.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, the start of a new series !!! I got this idea randomly when I was trying to sleep the other night, so I knew I had to do it. I hope you guys can enjoy this series with me, I'm really looking forward to writing it. 
> 
> As usual, thanks for reading ! Kudos and comments are always appreciated. Each and every one means more to me than you know


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